


As Gods Forsake Us

by Mareonet



Series: The Gods Collection [2]
Category: Underworld Chronicles - I.J. Romero
Genre: Canon Gay Relationship, Christian Demonology, Christian Mythology, Demonology, Demons, Devils, Eventual Sex, Experimental, Gods, Greek Mythology - Freeform, Greek gods, M/M, Mythology - Freeform, Or Is It?, Originally Posted on Wattpad, Pagan Gods, Possible Head-Hopping, TALE-related, rotXinXpieces
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-23
Updated: 2019-01-04
Packaged: 2019-09-25 15:23:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17123879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mareonet/pseuds/Mareonet
Summary: Reset/rēˈset/verbset again or differently.Despite the struggles, despite the promises, it happened. All returned to the Source, and it breathed fresh life anew. Different names, different faces, different forms. Same souls. And they're not very happy with their new change of existence.This is a collection of experimental oneshots introducing you to theories, headcanons and ideas of what could and will happen in my semi-reimagining ofrotXinXpieces' series, theUnderworld Chronicles.Chapters are written in a very raw, unedited form. I just wanted to get the ideas out of my head, you know? So I apologize if some things don't make sense or are a little screwy. Please enjoy them for what they are!This fanfic is being transferred from Wattpad to AO3.





	1. Reset

**Author's Note:**

> **A/N:** This fanfic is based upon rotXinXpieces' original series, the Underworld Chronicles, which can be read on Wattpad. I adore Rotty's UC universe and hope this comes across as an appropriate form of flattery, not an insult.
> 
> While this fanfiction consists of non-linear oneshots and snippets, a good lot of them seem to be linear, especially in the beginning. I know this might be complicating every now and then but give it a chance. This is meant to give you just an idea of what my experimental reimagining of the UC universe will be like.
> 
> This story is part of a fanfiction project that encompasses several other fandoms, from comic books to free e-books such as Rotty's stories. So, if you recognize characters, locations and so forth, give a shout-out to them! They're there for a reason! 
> 
> For the guidebook that goes with this, read my Underworld Survival Guide.
> 
> So, without further ado, I present to you... _As Gods Forsake Us_.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It all ends with the Three Demons...

The realms shuddered.

Like a shivering intake of breath, the encompassing planes of existence comprised of several underworlds and paradise realms gave a fierce quake. From Annwn to Mictlan, Heaven to Valhalla, all felt the sudden, inexplicable sensation of dread and fear.

Everyone was on the lookout for the Shifter's next move, for the next attack or ambush or abduction. They had only two more pieces of the prophecy to discern, the skies of the god and the death of hope, and less than a handful of people knew who the next target was.

Several long minutes passed after the quaver went through the realms. Within a dark world once long abandoned, four figures appeared, two masculine and two feminine. Three of them were tall, taller than an average human, but all were inhumanly beautiful. One had long white hair, pale skin and pinkish-red eyes, which blinked in surprise upon seeing his three companions. Likewise, his taller male counterpart looked upon them warily, yet not unkindly, his icy blue orbs narrowing. His skin was a rich, deep caramel, and his long hair was black as night.

Their female companions were also on guard, the tallest of the two looking around with completely blackened eyes, her lips pursed, their red color standing out against her pale skin and black hair. The last of them, a short female with yellow eyes, swallowed rather nervously, her dark brown pallor a shade's difference between her tallest companion's skin and her brown hair reaching past her shoulders.

The siblings were on alert. Something was wrong.

"I'm going to take a guess we all had the same vision," said Joxeia with a sigh, his red eyes flashing. At the nods his siblings gave him, his eyes slightly narrowed.

Xiphrus looked around the realm with a frown. "I would not have come here if I wasn't certain this was dire."

Geara's expression conveyed the same sentiment. "Neither would I, brother mine," she said, looking nervous and uncomfortable.

"Then where is the owner of that voice which spoke to us in the vision?" Viviana asked, speaking the thought they all had in mind.

"I apologize for keeping you waiting."

They all froze before turning to face the source of the voice. It was calm, ethereal, and indiscernible as masculine or feminine. Upons seeing the voice's supposed owner, they each simultaneously wondered how the _hell_ they missed the imposing figure that stood several feet away.

This new figure, wearing billowing clothes of black and deep violet, was at least fifteen feet tall, standing out like a sore thumb even within the dead lands of the old paradise realm. They wore a massive hood over what was assumed to be a head, but the folds of the clothes were so akin to a cloak that it was difficult to see if they were at all humanoid. Darkness stared back from within the mantle, and their voice carried well despite the distance between it and them.

Joxiea bristled, as did his siblings, moving closer to them, and they did the same. "Who are you?"

" _What_ are you?" Xiphrus demanded, his eyes flashing from blue to red and back.

Each of them could sense it. This _thing_ was unlike anything they had encountered before. It felt almost mortal, save for a dull throb of power that quivered within its being. The pulses beat through their own bodies, unnerving them.

"You may call me Vee." The figure gave a small bow of its head. "I am the One Who Knows. I have come to inform you of an imminent event that threatens your existence."

The siblings looked at one another. None of them wanted to believe the figure; why would anyone want to? They had the Shifter on their mind, loved ones in consideration.

Geara was the first to speak. "I believe you."

Viviana nodded, though she appeared intimidated. "So do I. Do you feel it?" she asked her brethren. "This sense of..."

"Honesty," Joxeia finished with a frown.

Xiphrus' glower deepened, but he didn't comment immediately. He crossed his arms over his chest. "Very well. I, too, sense no reason not to believe you. But you didn't answer my question. What are you? You are unlike the Shifter or my siblings and me. I cannot sense or smell a threat. You are...neutral."

Vee bowed its head again. "I am but a creation of the 'verse. Older, however, than any of you. Older than the Shifter. Older than time innumerable, universes expandable." At the expressions of alarm and shock that overcame the siblings' faces, the figure continued, "There is not much time to explain; perhaps a handful of minutes, at most. Heed my words and choose.

"The weavers of existence—that which you collectively call the Source—have grown tired of the rifts created within this universe. They plan to erase it, start anew, yet with the same blueprints as this one. You may call it a Reset. I alone have come to give you a choice of how you wish for this second chance of existence to carry out."

The siblings took a moment for this to digest in their minds.

_What?_

Joxeia shook his head in alarm. "That's—"

"I am sorry. Truly, I am," Vee interrupted, its voice remaining calm. It moved slightly closer, not moving in any visible way, yet sliding over the ground as if pulled on a conveyor belt. It was eerie. "The two choices are as follows: be erased and have your souls return in a different existence without memories of your past life with hope, or be erased and have your souls return in a similar existence with memories of your past life with bated hope."

Vee stopped approaching a safe distance away, but its massive form towered over the siblings. Despite this, they didn't feel alarmed at its appearance, only by what it said.

"How can you expect us to decide the fate of the entire universe so suddenly?" Joxeia demanded, looking up into the blackened hood in outrage. "First the Shifter threatens us with erasing all of existence, and now _this?_ What was the point of all we did up until now?"

"You do not have time to squander. Choose," Vee said evenly. "You have ten minutes."

Geara looked pensive. This was all so sudden. But if what this creature was saying was true, they didn't have a moment to spare thinking over everything. "What happens in ten minutes if we do not come to a decision?"

"You will be erased, your souls placed in a new existence without memories of your past life and without hope."

Viviana frowned. "I feel that this is a riddle of some sort."

"I agree," said Joxeia, frowning deeply at Vee, who merely stared back with unseen eyes. "Did you feel those rifts? There's no time to try figuring it out. But how can we trust that these choices won't lead to something worse than the existence we already have?"

"We can't," said Viviana, looking overwhelmed. She seemed to finally realize what was going on and her expression dropped, tears prickling at the corners of her eyes. "How can we possibly make the right choice in such a short amount of time? And for the entire universe...?"

They went quiet and ventured deep into their thoughts. Vee continued watching them, still and silent.

Finally, after a short minute, Xiphrus spoke. "We cannot think of ourselves. At the very least, we can think of our friends, what they have fought for. Their hardships, their struggles. They deserve a clean slate at happiness."

"Agreed," Viviana said softly, "but what of this hope? Bated Hope? No hope?"

"There's no time to think about it," said Joxeia, terse and uncomfortable. If this was going to be the end of existence as they knew it, he wished they had more time to come to grips with it. "I feel that the outcome lies in how our souls will return. I vote for having them return in a similar existence. Whatever that may mean..." He gave a helpless sigh, covering his face with his hands.

"I think we should return to a new existence," Viviana said, placing a hand on his shoulder. When he looked at her, she said, "Start anew."

Geara looked between her siblings. "What is the difference between the three? A new, different or similar existence?"

Exhaling deeply from his nose, Joxeia rubbed his forehead, clearly becoming aggravated. "Let's think about this from the perspective of those we _don't_ know. People are out there, suffering, going through trials unimaginable. But there must be hope within them for a better life."

"But hope can be blinding, yes?" asked Geara. "Sometimes one must face the truths, and sometimes, there is no hope..." She looked away, quieting as she thought of how she slept through the ages and why.

"Perhaps the blind hope that everything will be alright," said Xiphrus, seeming to understand what she was saying. "Bated hope, then. It isn't mindless, but it isn't lacking, either."

"Shades of grey," said Viviana with a small smile. "It isn't black or white."

Lowering his hand, Joxeia seemed to calm a bit. There was nothing that could be done, then. He looked at Geara. "How does that sound, sister mine?"

"It is better than no hope," she said quietly with a nod. She looked up at them. "Then, we choose to have our souls return in a similar existence with memories of our past lives with bated hope. It sounds dangerous, to remember what happened before."

"Perhaps it isn't so literal," said Xiphrus, though he sounded unsure. It sounded too much like a riddle.

Joxeia lowered his head. He had a feeling their mutual agreement on the choice did have something to do with their personal feelings. They didn't want to forget each other. He knew, for himself, that was true. He didn't want to forget the happiness he had with Zeus. While the pain he endured in the past was overwhelming, it all ended well. He would endure it all again, if it ended with the happiness of being with all three of his siblings and with Zeus again, their friends again.

Xiphrus was thinking the same. He endured such horrible pains in the past, but he found true happiness and forgiveness. He was coming to grips with the fact that his remaining children didn't hate him. He had reunited with his siblings. He had found Michael, who loved him so much. He had grandchildren, great-grandchildren, _great-great_ -grandchildren. His family was so large, and they weren't even aware. He didn't want to lose the memories, at least.

Geara and Vivian didn't have as many pains, but Geara, at least, had found happiness at the end of everything with her siblings. There was little more she could ask for. Viviana had friends, dear friends, and her extended family. She didn't have the pains her siblings dealt with, but knew it had all worked out, in the end. There was hope, even if it wasn't so clear, in the beginning. It was alright to feel hopeless and helpless, so long as some hope remained. Even if one wasn't aware they held such hopes.

Vee's ethereal voice cut through their thoughts. "Is that your choice?"

The siblings looked up at it. With grim faces, they then glanced at one another, solidifying their decisions as they stared into each other's eyes. They then returned their gazes to the massive form and gave nods.

"We choose to have the souls of those within this universe return to a similar existence with memories of their past lives...and bated hope," said Joxeia. The words felt like a death sentence, despite his _hope_ that they made the right choice. "But I must ask...why is this happening? Why did we have to choose?"

Vee didn't respond right away. It then seemed to lean back a bit. "There is still some time...Very well. You four are of the oldest creations in this 'verse and have a direct hand in its make, even to this day. It felt suitable that its fate would rest in your capable hands. Once more, you will each experience pains in the next existence, as life dictates. Fear not. Life is wrought with pain, either by choices made or by mere existence, but all hope is not lost. And that is why you have made the right choice. You will have more allies and gain more knowledge than you ever would have known in this existence, for I name you Ancients."

It raised one of the folds of its cloak, revealing a large hand covered in a black glove that was held out with its palm down.

"Worry not of the Shifter," Vee assured, just as the realm shuddered. As the siblings began to look around, Vee closed its hand, but kept it raised. "There are worse things in the 'verses than it. It, too, shall be reborn. As will all things. Fare well, young ones, for you are now Those Who Know. This burden is a heavy one, but it shall not defeat you."

Just like that, Vee disappeared, breaking up into molecules that dissipated into thin air. The siblings were left alone as the realm shifted and erode away before their eyes. They could feel it, deep within themselves. The universe was disappearing as it Reset. They looked at one another, wondering what was happening to their friends and loved ones.

Xiphrus sighed, lowering his head, tears forming in his eyes. "It all happened so fast. I...do not understand..."

Geara took his hand, giving a small, sad smile. "I feel we may understand more after the Reset, brother mine. I believe that is what Vee was trying to tell us."

Nodding, Xiphrus was surprised when Joexia took his hand, and then Viviana's with his other.

"I cannot find it within me to cry," Joxeia said softly. He looked around, watching as the realm, yes, disappeared, but sensed that something marvelous was being made in its place. Returning his gaze to his siblings, he managed a smile. "We will meet again, my dear siblings. I have faith that we will. I _know_ we will."

"We may not recognize each other at first," said Viviana, giving his hand a squeeze, "but we will know who we are. I believe our bonds from this existence will bring us back together, again."

"Yes," said Geara. She, too, watched the realm before returning her brother's smile. "Yes, we shall."

Xiphrus' shoulders eased, as if he was agreeing with them, relinquishing control he did not have. All he could hope, then, was that he would remember them soon.

Together, they stood there in silence, taking comfort in each other's presence as the erosion neared them. They each closed their eyes.

The realm shuddered.

The Source inhaled.

And all that was left of the universe was gone.


	2. Beginning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It all begins with Hades...

The sky was dark, without a single star in sight. Strange dark fog contrasted against the sky and wispy, eerily glowing colors made up the lack of other sources of natural light, swirling and dancing overhead. The translucent streams, much like the way wind was drawn in a book, tumbled around and traveled through the breeze until it whisked through a room sized temple-like structure with only two walls.

The front and back of the structure were open to the elements, transparent black curtains hanging loosely as the doorways. Its interior was gloomy, devoid of rich colors. Every piece of furniture—from the massive bed to the mirror on the wall—was styled in a way that would put most designers to shame, colored black with slivers of silver and near-black blues. The room's overall designs held an odd combination of ancient Greek with Gothic architectural influences, combining archways, tall, embellished engravings and stone pillars with volutes atop pediments.

The room seemed barren, much like the ethereal, dark realm the temple resided in. However, upon the bed laid the long form of the young Greek god Hades, his glowing blue eyes opening in the dark. Slowly, he sat upright, his long, silky black hair cascading over a bare shoulder. He deeply inhaled as a light breeze carried through the room.

He raised a leg underneath black sheets, resting an arm over it, and leaned back on a long, sinewy arm. For several moments, all remained silent, still and peaceful. Slowly, his blue orbs scanned the surroundings, flickering intermittently with emotions. Confusion. Fear. Anger. Bitter, heartbroken sadness. His head gave a painful throb, causing a grimace to contort his expression. He reached up and placed a hand on the side of his head, just as he heard the faint pattering of footsteps in the grass outside.

Without even guessing, he knew who the owner was. For the past several days, this had been happening. He glanced over to the upper left of the room where a small boy wearing a night tunic stood, partially hiding behind the curtain. The boy looked to be around five years old with layered black hair that reached his neck. Instead of normal human ears, he had furry, almost cat-like black ears emerging from the sides of his head. Large red eyes blinked back moisture, and the tips of obtrusive fangs were visible below his upper lip.

“Daddy, it happened, again.” The boy dropped his head to look at the floor, ashamed.

Hades stared for a moment, warring within himself. Something innate and very strong told him to savor these moments of childhood with his son, his greatest creation. “Cerberus,” he finally said, his voice dual-toned and slightly echoic, “there’s no reason to be ashamed.” He beckoned the boy over.

Cerberus happily and quickly moved towards the bed, climbing into it with ease. He crawled to the open arms of his father, who brought him close. Snuggling against him, the boy said, “I feel I should be sthronger, Daddy. I hate having nightmareth.” He lisped as he spoke, a side-effect of having such large fangs at a young age. He made a face at himself, looking up into amused blue eyes that glowed at him. “I wanna be like you.”

These simple words meant so much to Hades, and his heart swelled with sudden emotion. It was as if a part of himself had never had the chance to experience this sort of simple happiness, and he hugged his son to his chest, briefly closing his eyes. “I bet you’ll be a great demigod. Enjoy your time as a child. It won’t be long before you’ll be worried about things like sex and women, or men, and all sorts of things I’d rather not think about.”

Because, knowing how Cerberus was created, he was bound to grow quickly. The thought was somewhat saddening, and Hades brushed his hands through his son’s hair.

Cerberus didn’t completely understand, but he nodded, anyway. “Okay, Daddy.”

He stayed snuggled against his father for a while, just the two of them in silence. Hades enjoyed these moments. It could get lonesome in the palace, and sometimes simply being in the presence of his sons was enough to make the loneliness go away. His adopted son, Charon, however, tended to stay to himself. Considering his history, that he was abandoned by his parents, Hades respected his wishes.

After a while, the soft sounds of deep breathing caught his attention. He gave a small smile, looking down at his child. Cerberus had fallen asleep, curled against him. His furry ears twitched every now and then, and he sighed in his sleep.

With a gentleness that even he was surprised he had, Hades lifted his son into his arms and stood out of the bed. He was only wearing a pair of loose black pants, but he summoned a robe to drape over his shoulders before shifting Cerberus so his head rested comfortably against his chest.

He took his time walking back, passing through the curtain and stepping onto the dark grass. The palace was surrounded by what appeared to be dark blue, almost blackened fog despite being partially built within the nearby mountain. There was a path directly before him that led back into the main building, which was nothing like the human Greek palaces of old. What little it did have in common with them were the stone pillars, but otherwise, the building looked more like a stereotypical Gothic palace with archways, unusually shaped spires and some other designs that seemed both foreign and familiar.

The doorway was open, guarded by waist-high statues of hellhounds that thrummed with life within, and he passed through. He came into an open, partially round room lacking any sort of furniture but what seemed almost like a circular, pillar basin in the center. He ignored it and moved down one of many lit halls connecting to the room.

Every wall pulsed with life behind it. Or rather, unlife. He sensed souls screaming quietly, just faint whispers even to his adept hearing. They moved as pale grey streams. Every now and then, a soul pressed its face against the wall, allowing its contorted face to become visible.

Eventually, he came upon a hall where a door was partially open. He entered and beheld Cerberus’ room. It wasn’t full of toys, but there were a few scattered near corners. Most of the time, Cerberus wasn’t in his room, in any case, but trailing behind his father and learning from him. There was a bed that was rather large for a child, as well as trunks, a door leading to a bathroom, doors leading to a closet, a dresser, two windows, and a few other miscellaneous furniture.

Approaching the bed, which was unkempt, Hades lowered his son into it. Sighing softly, Cerberus immediately snuggled against his pillow before going still. His ears gave a few more twitches. Hades pulled the sheets over him, gently brushing a hand through the shaggy hair. He made sure the ceiling was alight with stars before moving away.

His chest hurt. Grimacing, he massaged it. He watched Cerberus sleep for a few seconds more before leaving, closing the door behind him. He then winced at his head throbbed again, more intense than before. A soft hiss escaped him, and he teleported to his bedroom within the palace.

It was a very large space with an equally massive bed. It was rather lacking furniture, though a desk had several scrolls scattered atop it. He flopped backwards on his bed, holding his head.

Just as Cerberus had been having nightmares for the past few nights, he had suffered from strange headaches. Stranger yet were his own dreams, which he could never remember. They always left him with a myriad of emotions, however: fearful, terrified, angry, heartbroken, and even content and aroused. The latter two were few and far between, however. Unfortunately, he had more experience with the former emotions than anything else. It was unusual and extremely annoying.

He sensed the presence nearing his door before he heard the knock. “Come in.”

The door slightly opened, showing a young adult barely out of his teens who also wore a night tunic and loose pants. Lavender eyes peeked between long locks of black hair. “Hades,” he said softly, his voice low, but slightly choked with emotion.

Sitting upright, Hades frowned upon seeing him. “What’s wrong, Charon?”

Swallowing, Charon murmured, “I just...I keep having dreams about him.”

“Who?” Hades beckoned him over.

The door opened a bit more, and Charon tentatively stepped inside. He came closer, but not by much. “For the past few nights, I’ve been dreaming about this man named Alexion. I...They make me very sad.”

The name was unfamiliar to Hades. “I'll have the Oneiroi investigate your dreams.”

Nodding rapidly, Charon began to walk back to the door. “Thank you,” he said softly, then closed the door behind him.

Heaving a sigh, Hades ran his fingers through his hair. It would take some time for Charon to open up, but he would let that happen on his own time. Something was telling him he would regret it if he did it any other way.

In fact, he had been having strong, almost innate feelings like that ever since the headaches and strange dreams began.

Perhaps there really was a reason to visit the Oneiroi.

Or perhaps it was an all an omen of things to come. A harbinger of warning.

Dread suddenly built up within him, and he shoved it down. Shaking his head, he laid back on his bed, staring up at the ceiling.

Pink, blue and green lights danced overhead. They were an image he managed to pluck from his dreams, though he was sure they didn’t look quite the way they appeared in them. Something was off, but he liked them, nonetheless. They normally calmed him and were just what he needed to ease the dread away.

However, the longer he stared, the more emotional he felt. Before long, his vision blurred as tears rolled down his cheeks, and he became overwhelmed by sadness and yearning.

Something was missing. Some...part of him. The lights reminded him, but he couldn’t figure out what it was. His eyes closed, the lights burning behind his eyelids, and he could swear a voice spoke three simple, painful words to him.

He curled up on his side. His hair splayed out against the sheets, blending into the darkness. He missed this, whatever it was. He wanted it, yearned for it. But he wasn’t even sure who it was directed at. All he knew was that the person meant something to him, somehow.

He grasped at the sheets, jaw clenching from emotion.

A part of him wanted to hate it. The rest of him desired the person that was causing him such heartache, even if it was just a dream.

He could feel it. This wasn't going to be the end of such emotions, such strange happenings.

It was only the beginning.


	3. Firstborn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Short snippet of what happened after the birth of Hades' eldest biological son, Zelios.

The infant cried in the crook of his arm, but he didn’t chide it. He idly stroked one of the soft, smooth cheeks as the woman’s body was delicately removed from the bedroom by servants. But he wasn’t looking at the body. Glowing blue eyes stared forward at the soul that lingered in the room, where she had died. She died in Hades. Naturally, her soul would linger. Thanatos, the god of death, would soon arrive to take her to the river Acheron, where her own stepson would eventually ferry her to the Fields of Asphodel.

He slowly entered the room, and she looked at him with a sad smile. She was beautiful, even in death. Long red hair, which their son inherited, and dark eyes, dressed in the chiton she died in. He lowered his arm so she could see their son, and she broke into a teary smile.

“Zelios,” she whispered.

Seconds after she spoke, a butterfly flew by. Her eyes hazed over, and he knew she could no longer see him as she followed the butterfly to the corner of the room.

Thanatos stood there, his black wings folded behind his back. He wore naught but a large black cloak, his feet bare. When she came to him, the butterfly rested on his shoulder, and he embraced her, hiding her from view with his wings.

Then, they were gone.

Hades held his son close, noticing he had stopped crying. The infant slept peacefully, oblivious to what had happened. A sudden pain blossomed within Hades’ chest, and he used his free hand to massage it. It didn’t subside so easily, but he was accustomed to it, now. A soft, shaky exhale escaped him, and he surprised himself by kissing the infant’s forehead.

“Zelios,” he murmured. The name was familiar, somehow.

His chest ached.

And softly, in the privacy of the lone room, he wept.


	4. King

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath of the Fall of a future King.

His body throbbed.

The pain was just as strong on the surface as it was beneath his skin. It settled into his bones, seizing them tightly, until he couldn’t move. Wouldn’t dare to move.

How long had it been since he Fell?

Hours?

Days?

Months?

Years?

Time blended together, and he had become disillusioned of it all. In the end, it didn’t matter. This dark, wretched world was now his home. What did it matter how long he had been there if he had an eternity to become acquainted to it?

He didn’t even feel the gnawing hunger that ate at his insides, as his body’s pains from being perverted were far greater.

As he laid there, in the sweltering heat of Hell, he felt his mind withering, devolving into madness. Dark, terrifying thoughts crept into him, voices echoed around him, and he wasn’t sure whether they were truly there or just the voices in his head.

He heard his siblings, screaming in outrage.

He heard his siblings, screaming in terror.

He heard his siblings, screaming in pain.

_No more no more no more no more..._

His clawed hand twitched. Red eyes stared forward, hazed over and unseeing.

_Please, kill me._

There was no reason to live, anymore. Why was he alive, at all? Was this his punishment, to be eternally damned? Had he known his punishment would be so severe...

A swell of boiling rage grew within him. His hooves twitched. Red eyes stared forward, flickering.

 _Please...please, kill me_.

This rage was unnatural. It was corrupting him, urging his mind to wither faster. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could hold out.

Maybe he didn’t want to.

If he became mindless, would it be anything like dying? If so, he opened himself to the feelings of anger, hurt, betrayal, sadness.

Wrath.

Pride.

“The fuck are you doing, down there?”

The sudden, strong voice broke through the others that were whispering to him, echoing about him. It was strange, a voice he had never heard before. Accented, coarse, dual-toned, and eerie. Yet...

His body twitched. Red eyes blinked. Slowly, he looked up, but couldn’t make out the figure that stood over him. All he could tell was that it dressed from head to toe in all black, including its hair, and two electric blue eyes glowed strongly in the otherwise dark surroundings.

“Some Fallen King you are,” the male voice scoffed. The eyes raked over him disparagingly. “Looks like you won’t be seeing me, this way.”

The more he heard the voice, the stronger a yearning grew within him, dousing the negative emotions. His fingers twitched, and he slowly, shakily reached for the figure. “Wh...who...?” he uttered, his voice a shell of its former self, demonic and warbled.

“Whatever. It means nothing to me, anyway...”

He gasped in horror as the magnificent eyes turned away from him. No, he needed them. He _wanted_ them. He reached out, but he couldn’t move any other part of his body. “W-wai...wait...”

“See you, Lucy.”

He closed his eyes. “N-no...P-please...” He grasped onto something. It felt like some sort of skin. “P-please...don’t...go...”

There was silence. Slowly, with so much effort he felt tears roll down his face, he pulled himself forward, closer and closer to that something he grabbed onto. When he opened his eyes again, he saw something white. He fought to clear his vision, blinking and closing his eyes and opening them, focusing.

Finally, he saw what he held onto.

A large white snake flicked its tongue at him, large pink-red eyes staring unblinkingly into his own.


	5. Slain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hades learns a son he never knew he had was killed.

Children were terrifying. Even moreso when they grew up. Hades knew this, almost instinctively. Under certain circumstances, a child was easy to raise. Feed them, entertain them, which wasn't difficult, and give them attention. Hades could do all of that. So, he did. He daresaid he even enjoyed it, most of the time, though never aloud. Ever.

But when a child reached puberty...

That was another story.

Charon left the palace on his own, shortly after he was adopted. Cerberus was kicked out when he was sixteen, Zelios when he was fifteen. Hades wanted nothing to do with them, after that.

Or so it seemed.

They didn't understand. Neither did he, in truth. There was some fear he held, but he would never admit it. It was a fear that gripped at him tightly, frightening him enough that he would even cast out his own children without reason. But he was not completely cruel.

He gave them their regions in the realm to rule, to guard. And they weren't really alone. Charon was raised by the immortal Kyros, who Hades personally chose as Charon's subordinate. Cerberus was taught and raised by Echidna, the half-snake monster who guarded the Gates of Hades until Cerberus arrived there; Zelios was taught and raised by the creature Hecatoncheires, his granduncle, in Tartarus.

That was good enough, to Hades.

And if his children hated him from that, he would deal with it. More often than not, they did seem to hate him, or at least greatly disliked being in his presence. He could handle it. Even when it hurt.

So, it came as a stupendous surprise when Charon appeared in the palace shouting his name, one day.

Hades appeared in the throne room, where Charon stood without Kyros, who was almost always at his side when the Ancient wasn't ferrying souls. Before Hades could so much as open his mouth to demand what he wanted, Charon spoke.

"You need to come to Acheron," he said, bewilderment in his voice. "There's someone you need to see."

There was something about the way Charon looked, almost pale and his eyes wide, that made Hades teleport with him to the river.

Acheron was the first of five rivers in the realm of Hades. It existed in the area called Erebus, named after the Ancient and biological father of Charon, and was just several yards from the Gates. It was where Charon gathered souls to ferry through the realm. Most of the souls were already onboard Charon’s boat, all but one.

The moment Hades spotted him, he knew who he was.

Deep blue eyes stared lifelessly behind a curtain of dark brown hair at nothing, distraught by a powerful emotion. Seeing this familiar, haunted look in his own son broke Hades somewhere inside. Because this was his son. He could see it, the godliness within his young soul; he couldn’t be older than nineteen. He was a demigod. A _real_ demigod, half-human, likely born of Hades’ coupling with the Ragnaic first woman, Eve. It was a strange event, no doubt about it...

But had he known he would have _children_ from it...

He cut off those thoughts, focusing on what was at hand. He approached the soul and touched his shoulder, causing his eyes to close while going limp. Hades held out his hand, gathering the soul in the form of a glowing grey orb in his palm. He then glanced at Charon.

The ferryman's eyes lingering on the soul of his younger brother with concern—and a dash of confusion. Hades recognized it.

How _did_ Charon know who the soul was...?

Regardless, he teleported back to his palace and brought the soul into a room within his lab. Without wasting any time, he began the process of creating a body for his son. Placing the soul in what looked like a simple jar, he kept an eye on the floating orb as he pressed buttons and inputted executions.

It was not a simple process, creating a true, flesh-and-blood body. It took calculations, care, powerful magic, and a heaping amount of knowledge. It was something like alchemy, if not just that, but more the scientific one than the magical one. It took a good amount of know-how of both to make it all work, in any case.

As he began to create the formula, putting all his physical attention to the details, his mind unintentionally wandered.

Who the _fuck_ killed his kid?

And how the fuck could he get his hands on them?


End file.
